Someone Like You (Someone To Love Series) (13 page)

BOOK: Someone Like You (Someone To Love Series)
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“I’d love to meet her.” Morgan presses his lips into the side of my cheek, as naturally as the breeze licking the shore. I like it this way with Morgan. It feels comfortable, safe. “Maybe we can get some pictures of the two of you, enough to fill that album you’re missing. We can make a day out of it.” Everything in me warms at the thought of Morgan wanting to spend the day with me and Ruby.

“Really?” I fall back on my elbow and pull him down with me.

“Really.” He reaches up and traces out the side of my face. “Don’t look so surprised. I love spending time with you. You’ve made this summer totally worth the trip. If it wasn’t for you I’d go batshit listening to the percussion going on next door. Not to mention my mom’s been so busy with the wedding that I’ve hardly seen her.” Morgan scoots in until the heat from his body sears over mine. He touches his hand to my hip and leans in further, his lips just a breath away from mine.

My heart pounds so hard I’m sure he can feel it,
hear
it. Why do I get the feeling Morgan and I just took a turn for the serious, or are about to?

His lips trace over mine, driving me insane the way they feather over my skin, and I give a heated breath.

“Um.” I clear my throat and lean back a bit. “Tell me something about yourself.”

Morgan shelters me from the wind as I nestle in his arms. It feels good like this with Morgan, safe.

“You know all of my secrets,” I say, “and I don’t know any of yours.”

“Do I know all of your secrets?” He sweeps me with his gaze as if he suspects cobwebs hidden in the recesses of my past—that the closet of my life still has a corpse or two hanging from a noose.

“I do have a secret.” He warms my cheek with his breath.

“Let me guess. You try on Kendall’s high heels when she’s not looking?” I tease, running my finger over his cheek, coarse as sandpaper.

“I wish it were that simple.” His features darken. “Actually, Kendall doesn’t know this and neither does my mom. I don’t mind telling you, though.”

I clasp the back of his neck and trace out small circles over the nape, encouraging him to go on. Morgan is all too serious and it frightens me on some level.

“Back home, in Oregon, there was this girl…” He pauses and my heart drops into the pit of my stomach. “We weren’t serious or anything like that, but we were fooling around, and I may have gotten her pregnant. It’s a mess. Right now she’s engaged to someone else, and there are DNA tests waiting to be done. She swears I’m the only other option. I should get the results in a couple of weeks. She wants to wait until the baby’s born, and deal with it then.”

A breath gets caught in my throat.

“Oh my God.” I wrap my arm around his neck. “I’m so sorry. I mean, I’m sorry you’re going through this alone. I’m glad you told me. This must be so hard for you.”

He looks down and shakes his head. “I feel like an ass for saying anything. She doesn’t want me around. The idiot she’s with even tried to buy me out of the picture. But if that baby’s mine, I’m all in; there’s no way they’re keeping me from its life.” His smile is layered with pain and my heart shatters for him.

“Morgan.” I tighten my grip as he pulls me over to his lap. “I’m proud of you. You’re a man for wanting to be in that baby’s life.” My lids grow heavy because he must think I’m inhuman for walking away from Ruby.

“Thank you.” He bows his head a moment. “And”—the whites of his eyes expand—“in no way am I judging you for choosing adoption. In fact, I think you’re a hero, Ally, and
I’m
proud of
you
.”

A line of fire burns through me as Morgan plants a careful kiss on my forehead. My eyes glitter up with tears, and I do my best to blink them away.

“You’re going to make a great dad someday. I already know this.”

He presses out a grin that ignites me like a flame and everything in me burns to have him.

“And you’re an excellent mother, Ally. I can already see that.”

“I haven’t been able to give Ruby anything.” I touch my cheek to his chest and look up.

“Life isn’t about things, Ally.” His eyes drill into mine as if he’s speaking in far broader terms. “It’s about love, about building relationships and helping people. You did a lot more for that little girl than buy her a swing set or a teddy bear, you gave her a life. And, you’re lucky because you still get to be in it. That’s pretty special.”

There, he’s done it. Morgan Jordan has galvanized himself over the framework of my life as a savior, a god, a counselor—all of the above. He’s so much more than a friend, but I know that we can never be together. It would never work. The bouncer and the dancer—we’re almost laughable to everyone in the free world, for sure to the people at Garrison if they ever found out. But they’re not here tonight, and neither is anyone else.

“Morgan?”

“What’s that?” He whispers it low, directly in my ear, and chills of excitement tingle up my spine.

“I think we should revisit our dirty little secret.”

His dimples invert with approval. “I thought you’d never ask.”

 

Morgan

T
he warm breeze feels downright tropical as I hold Ally in my arms on a white sandy beach at midnight. It would figure that the one time in weeks she suggests we replicate the mattress magic, I’m deficient a love glove.

Shit.

“Let’s get back to the house.” I rock her in my arms, trying to coax her into my line of thinking. “I’ve got ways to make our secret feel a hell of a lot dirtier.” I whisper it hot in her ear and her neck arches back, driving me insane.

Actually, I don’t have any new ideas but I predict I’ll think up about a dozen on the drive home. I’d hate to miss out just because of some sophomoric blunder.

“I like it here.” She bites down over her cherry lip, and my gut pinches tight. Her eyes sparkle in this dim light like embers. Ally sizzles right off the sand, hotter than a bonfire.

“Here?” Thought so. I pull her over me and ride my hand up her thigh. “I don’t have anything with me,” I confess. “Do you?” I doubt Ally routinely packs ammo for her night at the club. Deep down I know for a fact Ally Monroe is a good girl.

Her mouth rounds out in a perfect
O
as she catches on to our preventative predicament.

Ally reaches down and rides her hand over the bulge in my jeans as if to say,
procreation be damned
.

“Look”—I give a gentle laugh while tracing the outline of her features—“it’s not like me to stop the train from pulling into the station, but I think maybe we’ve got too many offspring, or potential ones at best, floating around between us. There’s no way I’m playing Russian roulette with my boys again.”

A soft laugh bubbles from her. Her chest heaves in a series of intoxicating ripples, and I’m transfixed by her beauty. Ally lies over the beach like a fabled princess who has no idea she’s royalty.

I press a kiss over her ear before running my tongue along the rim and she groans.

“There are a few other things I can think of to keep us entertained,” I whisper, gently rolling her onto her back.

Ally gives an impish smile with her hair spilling around her like a lion’s mane. She looks like a girl, a
teenager,
and for a minute I try to imagine that we’re both in high school, innocent as the day is long, about to share our love with one another for the very first time.

I lean in and brush my lips over hers. Ally opens her mouth for me, but I stroke her lips with my breath until she reels from the effect. Ally pulls me down by the back of the neck and crushes into me with a mouthwatering kiss that makes my insides ache. I can’t recall who I shared my first kiss with, but this one, this kiss has already bookmarked itself in my memory as an all-out fucking luxury that I can only hope to replicate time and time again. Ally is a rare treasure—one I’m not sure I’ll be partaking in ever again. She’s a take-it-or-leave-it kind of girl, and I’ll take it every single time. I’m just afraid the invite might not be available in the future. I wish it were. I wish what we have could withstand the promise of a thousand tomorrows. I’d do anything to make that happen. That idea I had earlier while scoping out Cal’s basement comes back full throttle, and I’m half tempted to bring it up, but not stupid enough to take a break in the action.

Nope. My ingenious idea will have to wait for later. Hell, I might even spring it on her last minute. I have a feeling it’s going to take all of Garrison University by storm. We’ll be swimming in dollar bills before summer is up. I’ll make sure she has more than enough to pay for her fall semester and a new place to stay. Maybe then she’ll take me seriously. Move me from the fuck-buddy shelf to the potential partner in lifelong crime arena. Although I’m pretty sure I need to cut the word “crime” from my lexicon whether it’s a euphemism or not. It’s baby steps with Ally, though, ironically, not when our bodies are involved.

I hike up on my elbow, and run my hand over her smooth-as-butter stomach. Slowly I inch my way north and she moans herself into a beautiful oblivion. Ally tries to pull me back down, her mouth open and waiting for mine, but I forgo the offer. I have a few other places I’d like to land my lips tonight, and I plan to explore them soon.

The ocean rushes the shore with its rocketing affection and touches the outer edge of our towel, but I ignore the threat for now. So the ocean’s a little bit wet. Who the hell cares? I’m more into whether Ally is wet, and I’m determined to make sure the answer is hell fucking yes. I slip my hand beneath the split in the barely there lace number she’s wearing and cup her breast in my hand, more than a handful and so fucking soft. It takes all of my restraint to not to bite down like I want to. Nope, this is all about her tonight.

Her smile fades. She runs her tongue over her bottom lip as if she’s worked up an appetite. Ally glimpses up at me with her smoldering eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone the way I want Ally. Maybe because deep inside I know I can never have her, that I’ll never be good enough on an economic scale for her to consider me an option.

My hand rides down over her searing flesh and takes in the sting from her skin, like touching down on a hot iron skillet. My fingers create small circles over her stomach before dipping down to her panty line and slipping my fingers inside. I’d map her out with my mouth, but she protested the last time I tried. I know some girls have a hang-up about that. We’ll get her there, just not tonight. Tonight we’re traveling in the slow lane to ensure Ally Monroe gets an intoxicating rise out of the evening while using me as the fuel she needs.

“Come here.” She tries to pull me down by the neck, but I don’t budge.

“No thanks.” I press out a smile. “I like the view.”


Morgan
.” She averts her gaze a moment, and I take the opportunity to glide my fingers over her skin, tracing the shape of an
S
. I touch down over the coarse hair that lines the tender part of her body and my finger glides into the hot slick. Ally is well lubed for the night, and my ego would like to think I had more than a little something to do with it.

Her eyes close involuntarily as she catches her breath.


Morgan
.” She says it again as if pleading with me. Ally’s chest rises and falls with the rhythm of my fingers. Her breathing becomes erratic, her shoulders flex in time as she writhes in the sand, her neck arches as if this is agonizing on some level. “Morgan, wait.” She reaches down and secures her grip over my wrist.

“I’m good,” I whisper. “I want to do this. I like watching you. You’re beautiful, you know that?”

“Come here.” She pulls me with the strength of a wrestler and dislodges my hand in the process.

“I want to finish. I want to do this for you,” I say, running my hand back down to the heated slick I was enjoying before she stopped me. I open my mouth and trace her jawline with my lips.

“I don’t want to disappoint you.” She heaves the words in my ear as if she is a breath away from enjoying the hell out of herself.

“How—”

A wall of water collapses over our bodies and baptizes us with its icy brine.

Ally screams and laughs as the wave rolls back with ten times the ferocity it did coming in.

“Shit.” I pluck at my T-shirt that’s adhered to my flesh. I roll back over her and warm her lips with mine. I let my lips hover over her, waiting for her to want me, invite me in. Ally holds me down by the shoulders and dives her salty little tongue into my mouth. I gently catch it with my teeth, and my chest rumbles with a laugh. I swipe my tongue over hers, exploring slowly and methodically, as if I were setting up shop. Kissing Ally has quickly become my favorite pastime, kicking the old ball and stick out of the prime position they’ve held in my life since the day I was born. We kiss for what feels like hours, months. I soak in all of her moans, the sweet way her body writhes beneath me. I’m not ready to head back to the house, and for sure I’m not ready to ask her why the hell she thinks she could ever disappoint me. If anything, she’s deprived me of witnessing one hell of an awesome sight. I think I’ve memorized her face, the way her body looks twisted in the sand, right down to the last molecule.

Nope, Ally Monroe doesn’t disappoint on any level—never could, never will.

Once we arrive home, the rest of the night is uneventful. Ally takes a shower and crashes on the couch, falling asleep before I can beg her to help me out with the perpetual hard-on I’ve been nurturing since I arrived in Carrington.

Cruise’s voice booms through the papier-mâché walls, barking out orders in his bedroom, and for the first time in my life I wish to God I were deaf. Between his sergeant-like commands and Kendall’s high-pitched moans my hard-on has deteriorated all on its own.

It’s becoming painfully clear that I’ve got to get the hell out of here. I’m pretty damn sure the seventh circle of hell has a lot to do with hearing your sister in the throes of passion, night after night. But it’s not Kendall’s pleasure threshold that has me worried, it’s Ally’s.

In the morning, Ally’s taken off for Starbucks before I can get out of the shower. Kendall is nowhere to be found. I’ll probably hit the batting cages in a few minutes. Stalk Ally on the way over—a man needs his coffee. God knows the brewed piss Cruise offers isn’t going to help shape the day.

Speaking of the bed-and-breakfast bigwig, I find him hunched over his laptop in the kitchen, and thanks to sad mathematics I can deduce it’s just Elton and me. He looks wrecked, like he partied all night and has a serious hangover to contend with, but in reality we both know it’s because he doesn’t get enough freaking sleep. Gyrating on your mattress all night will do that to a person. I should know. I used to live that way until Paige walked into my life and turned me into a genetic vending machine, a potential one at least.

That’s precisely why I swore off random hookups. At least I did until I hit Carrington and Ally Monroe fell into my lap, literally.

My chest pumps with a failed laugh.

I was going to hold out for “true love,” whatever the hell that might be. I think Ally and I can get to it. I think if she burns her illogical ideals to the ground, she might find something just beyond those ashes, preferably me.

And what’s with denying herself the Big O? She saving that for Rutger or some other well-off douche? Sounds more like a punishment. If she keeps using my social standing as an excuse to cut off her good time, soon her entire body is going to subconsciously hate me.

Cruise springs up from the table and blinks a sarcastic smile.

“What’s on your mind, doll face?” He dumps cereal into a bowl in haste, landing half of his not-so Lucky Charms all over the sink.

“Ally.” My stomach clenches. I don’t like how easily I admitted it. The next thing you know, I’ll be drooling over how cute she is and crying like a schoolgirl over the fact she’s just not that into me. Then, of course, Cruise and I will end the douche-fest with a pillow fight and I’ll have to beat the shit out of him for reducing me to the relevance of a seventh-grade girl. Funny how just about every mental scenario with Cruise ends with me beating the shit out of him. The first time he looks at Kendall crooked, that’s exactly what’s going to happen.

He plops down his bowl and a swig of milk slops onto the table. His eyes are nothing but a network of red wires, and he looks dulled out in general.

“Dude, you gotta get some sleep.”

“Tell me about it,” he gravels out. “At about three-thirty I had a plumbing backup next door that nearly washed away the entire second floor. I had to relocate three couples in the middle of the night, including my sister.”

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